The Finale Prank
by Bears Eat Beets
Summary: One-shot. When Jim and Pam learn Dwight missed the Lost season finale, they just can't help themselves. But how could Dwight miss such an important event...? Spoilers through what happens during Lost's season four finale...in Dwight's mind, at least.


**Author's Note: **This idea for this story - from beginning to end - is the brainchild of one "Mr. Bears Eat Beets," more generally known as my husband. He didn't want to actually write it, though, but knowing an amazing idea when I hear one I asked if he'd let me give it a shot. He agreed, thankfully, and enjoyed the result. Hope you do as well. Inflate his ego (okay, and mine too), and send us a review.

PS, we own none of the shows mentioned within, nor do we claim to. Check our bank statements.

PPS, I use the phrase "his best Jim face" with the blessing of the extraordinary HalloweenJack138, who I believe originated and mastered using Jim as an adjective _and _a verb.

* * *

"Here you go," Pam said, holding out a CD to Jim, who was leaning against the reception counter.

"What'd you think?" he asked. Pam shrugged. Jim raised his eyebrows at her. "That's it? A shrug?"

"It was okay."

Jim gave her a face. "I thought you'd love Ryan Adams."

"I didn't hate it. It was all right."

"This CD is _more _than all right," Jim admonished her, sounding smug. Pam shrugged again, her gaze returning to her monitor. "Seriously Beesly…you're cute and all, but your taste in music…?"

"I know, I know…" she sighed.

* * *

Pam: (_rolling her eyes_) Jim is kind of a…music snob? And by that I mean a _huge_ music snob. I mean, I actually really liked the CD, but sometimes I just like giving him a hard time. I told him it was too "country." (_She smiles knowingly._)

* * *

Jim: (_puts his hands up_) Whoa, whoa. Ryan Adams is _alt_-country. Huge difference. _Huge_.

* * *

Pam: (_with a devious grin_) Ask him if he likes Toby Keith, too.

_

* * *

_

Jim sighs.

* * *

As Jim continued his questioning, Dwight entered, looking furious. Jim popped a jelly bean in his mouth. "Morning, Dwight."

"Don't talk to me, Jim," he snarled as he stalked toward his desk. Jim and Pam exchanged a confused look.

"What's the matter?" Pam asked. Dwight heaved a sigh and fell into his chair.

"I missed the season finale of _Lost_," he informed her bitterly.

* * *

Dwight: Why did I miss the _Lost_ season finale? Well…(_his eyes shift slightly_) Last night I was…at the dojo. Normally my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, but my sensei had to…reschedule, due to…his…honorable parents'…fortieth anniversary dinner…at Cooper's. (_Dwight looks pleased for a moment, then purses his lips._) I explicitly instructed Mose _not _to touch the VCR, but he has an irrational fear that the device can steal your soul. When he heard it begin taping… (_he shakes his head sadly_) It wasn't pretty.

* * *

As Dwight started up his computer Jim and Pam exchanged another look, this one of excitement. "So…go time?" Pam muttered, eyes on her computer screen.

"We couldn't have _asked _for a better opportunity," Jim replied, drumming his hands on the desk top. He was barely able to conceal a smile as he returned to his desk.

* * *

Jim: Okay, so, a few months ago I had to pull some sales reports off Dwight's computer, and I _happened _to find a _Lost_ fan fiction Dwight had been writing. (_Jim grins._) It's _ridiculous_. Even by fan fiction standards. Anyway, after some searching, I found where he'd been posting it online. Pam and I have been waiting for the right time to put all this to good use. (_He sits back, sighing contentedly._) Thank you, Mose.

* * *

"So you missed the finale, huh?" Jim asked a half hour later.

"I said don't talk to me."

"Okay. Sorry."

There were a few moments of silence. Dwight looked pained, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Did you see it?" he asked despite himself.

"What's that?"

"I asked if _you _saw it."

"Oh yeah. Pam and I watch it together every week. We never miss it."

More silence.

"How was it?" If Jim hadn't been listening so attentively, he wouldn't have heard Dwight's question.

"The finale?" Dwight glared at Jim. "Oh my God, Dwight, it was _awesome_. So many questions were answered. So many great plot twists." Jim gave him an innocent glance. "Do you want me to tell you-"

"_No_."

"Not even about the-"

"Nothing."

"But what about-"

"Jim, do _not_ tell me what happens."

"Okay." He gave the camera his best Jim face. After another minute he shrugged. "You know, Dwight, you can just watch it on the ABC website right now."

"_Some _of us do work, here, Jim. That would be a misuse of company time."

Jim nodded. "You're probably right. But you could watch on your lunch break."

"Pfft. With all the ambient noise? What if I missed some crucial clue or bit of dialogue? Not worth the risk."

"Well, you can just watch it when you get home, right?"

Dwight cringed again. "No," he muttered.

"Why not?"

"My computer…isn't working."

* * *

Dwight: (_A long pause, pondering a disaster we can only imagine._) Mose is _very _uncomfortable around electronic devices.

* * *

Angela: (_haughtily, as usual_) Do _I _watch Lost? Hardly. I watch very little television, aside from what's on the Trinity Broadcast Network. Occasionally I'll tune in to the Food Network, but _never _when that Giada De Laurentiis is on. She's a tramp, and I don't enjoy Italian cuisine. (_She looks down, picking imaginary lint from her blouse._) Besides, I was…at Bible study last night. It ran very late. (_A pause._) Psalms 41 is quite a long chapter.

* * *

Pam and Jim were sharing a snack in the break room when Dwight started to enter around ten o'clock. Upon seeing Jim and Pam he stopped short. They sat with their heads close together. "Could you _believe _Jacob's true form?" Jim asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I know!" Pam replied. "I mean, I was sure he was Jack's dad, but who was _that _guy?"

"How'd he look again?"

"Well, he had brown hair, and glasses…"

"And I _think _he had on some sort of karate outfit, with a purple belt."

Unbeknownst to them, Dwight's eyes had gone wide.

"So weird…" Pam sighed, shaking her head. Jim looked up.

"Oh, hey Dwight."

His coworker stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes still wide. Without saying a word he pivoted and headed back to his desk. Jim and Pam shared a secret smile.

* * *

Pam: Dwight's story is entitled "Impending Darkness," and is what they call a crossover – as in, a cross between two different TV shows? In this case, it's _Lost _and _Battlestar Galactica._

Jim: Big surprise. Here's what happens – at least, as far as I understand. (_Jim looks down at some printed pages in his hands._) I'm not _nearly _a big enough dork to make sense of a lot of it.

_Pam flashes a wide-eyed smile at the camera._

Jim: (_without looking up_) I saw that. (_Pam's smile widens._) Okay, so, in Dwight's story it seems that Jacob, in his true form, is actually Dwight. Mr. Widmore – y'know, Penelope's dad and ultimate bad guy? – is _really _a Cylon. The ruler of the Cylons, to be exact. _His_ true form isn't that of Mr. Widmore but of a somewhat stocky guy in khakis and striped ties. He also has a knack for singing acapella, which is how he kills the humans he encounters.

_Jim and Pam give the camera similar knowing looks._

Pam: Anyway, Mr. Widmore-slash-the Cylon is planning to move his people, or robots, or whatever, to the island when they return to Earth. That's why he's trying to kill all the inhabitants, and that's why Jacob-slash-Dwight needs to move the island, which as far as we can tell he plans to do with some sort of cosmic martial arts and wizarding skills…? (_Pam looks down at the sheets Jim is holding, then looks back up and shrugs._) We don't really get how that would work.

Jim: I don't think Dwight does either.

* * *

When Jim returned from the break room Dwight was seated at his computer, intently studying the screen.

"Whatcha looking at there?" Jim asked casually.

"Don't talk to me" was the curt reply.

"Okay." Jim aimlessly clicked his mouse a few times. "Is it, like, a story or something?"

"No. None of your business."

"It's not a story or it's a story that's none of my business?"

"Both."

"Nope. Can't be both." Just for fun, Jim leaned Dwight's way slightly, arching his neck. Dwight snatched up the closest file folder and held it as a shield.

"Why don't you focus on work for once?" Dwight suggested snidely, his eyes still scanning the screen at a rapid clip.

"I'm trying, but I can't get last night's show out of my mind. I wish you'd seen it, man. I _really_ want to talk about it with someone."

"You were just talking to Pam about it."

"I know, but I want a different perspective." Jim leaned in even closer, giving the camera a smile first. "I mean, you're always so _good_ with mysteries like this, really complex story lines and stuff." He shook his head. "You could write for _Lost_, Dwight. Have you ever thought about that?"

From behind the folder Dwight's eyes narrowed and his lips formed a hard line.

From behind Reception Pam did all she could to not start laughing.

* * *

Dwight: Do I _think_ writers in Hollywood look to outside sources for "inspiration"? (_He cocks an eyebrow._) I _know_ they do. People who make money off of being creative are a breed of people one should _not _trust. Being creative for the sheer rush of creating, with no monetary gain and only the reviews from your peers as payment? _That's_ where it's at. (_He sighs._) That's one of the many perils of posting things on the Internet. That and identity theft.

* * *

The camera peeked through the blinds of the kitchen window and spied Angela at the fridge. Behind her, Dwight was assembling a sandwich at the counter. The two stood silently for a moment. Finally Dwight cleared his throat. "How are you today, Angela?" he asked quietly, an almost imperceptible note of tenderness underscoring the question.

"A little tired, but otherwise fine. Thank you, Dwight. How are you?"

"The same."

"I see."

Before they could say more – and it wasn't clear if they were planning to or not – Andy burst in. "There you are, sweetie!" he crowed, coming to kiss Angela's cheek. Angela flinched slightly; Andy noticed but kept his cheerful expression as he stepped back. "Ready for lunch?"

"Yes," she replied, now sounding 'a little tired.' He put his arm around her and led her out. Dwight hadn't reacted to the interaction taking place behind him, but he stopped making his sandwich and turned his head just enough to watch them as they left.

* * *

Dwight did his best to ignore Jim and Pam, but it seemed they were making a point of standing around whispering anywhere he tried to go. By the middle of the afternoon he had to duck out of the office to sooth his frazzled nerves. Once he made it into the stairwell, though, he was immediately assaulted by the sound of their hushed voices. He looked conflicted, but didn't turn back around. Instead he pressed himself close to the wall and craned his neck to pick up their words.

"And what about Juliet?" Pam was saying.

"I _know_! That was the weirdest part!"

"Why do you think Jacob demanded Ben bring her to him?"

"Well, it kinda seemed like-"

Dwight shook his head quickly and went charging down the stairs to confront them. "Haven't you two wasted enough time today talking about a stupid TV show?"

Pam gave him a surprised look. "Stupid TV show? I thought you liked _Lost_, too."

"Not relevant. You're at work. You should be…doing work."

Jim sighed and looked at Pam. "He's probably right. Come on."

Dwight stomped back up the stairs ahead of them, looking more worried than triumphant.

* * *

Jim: Oh yeah! Here's the most interesting part of Dwight's story: "Jacob" (_he uses finger quotes_) apparently orders Ben to bring him Juliet –

Pam: (_raising an eyebrow_) The tough girl, and more importantly the only _blonde _on the island –

Jim: Right – he demands Ben bring him Juliet, because he has to save her from a terrible fate. The Cylon is planning on abducting her and mating with her to produce a race of half humans, half…whatever Cylons really are. (_Pam and Jim exchange one of their famous looks, then Jim shakes his head sadly._) And they say romance is dead.

* * *

Jim stood waiting for Pam at Reception while she finished the last of her work. Aside from the couple the office had emptied quickly, which was typical on a Friday afternoon.

"We did some fine work today, Beesly," he mused, grinning.

She rolled her eyes at him. "We hardly did _any_ work today. That's why I'm here late on a Friday."

"You know what I mean. How paranoid do you think he is?"

"I bet all his stories are pulled down already."

Jim nodded, pleased. "Outstanding." He drummed his hands against Pam's counter top. "I'm going to hit the bathroom while you do that," he told her. She nodded and smiled, returning her attention to the shredder. Jim started off towards the restrooms, but stopped suddenly short of the doorway to the corridor. He waved desperately at the camera to stop as well, pointing toward the doorway, then holding a finger to his lips. Dwight and Angela were barely visible around the doorframe.

"So your appointment is for ten o'clock tomorrow morning?" Dwight asked, looking down at the petite blonde as lovingly as his face allowed. She nodded.

"It was the soonest I could get. Thankfully the doctor has Saturday office hours."

"Gynecological and obstetric issues don't take weekends off," Dwight stated softly, his gaze shifting to Angela's abdomen. The look of pure love on her face would make one think he had just recited a sonnet. The camera swung around to capture the raw, unadulterated shock on Jim's face, then swung back to the two. "I'll pick you up at nine-thirty then." There was a pause. "Where did you tell _him _you'd be?"

"My feline loss support group." She shook her head. "He didn't even remember that that's usually on Tuesdays."

Dwight looked pleased for a moment, but quickly he regained his composure. "After I bring you home, may I use your computer to watch _Lost_?" he asked. Angela sighed and looked away. "You know I'd never normally ask, but I told you what Mose did and Jim and Pam have been rubbing it in my face all day," he said, growling the last few words. "_Please_, Monkey."

"Fine," she sighed. Dwight reached out to touch her hair, grinning broadly. The camera swung again and caught Jim almost running back to Reception. Pam was picking up her purse and casting another smile his way.

"All done!" she announced brightly, but before she could finish Jim had grabbed her hand and was pulling her toward the door. "Wait, Jim, I've got to lock-"

"Dwight'll get it," he blurted, not stopping.

"Dwight's still here?" she asked, looking confused and trying to see back into the office. Jim paused and gave her a look, his face still pale.

"Trust me," he said urgently, "we need to _go. Now._"

"Can we listen to Robbie Williams in the car?"

"We can listen to whatever you want," he assured her as the door shut.


End file.
